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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29297088">Burlesque Noir</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamari333/pseuds/Kamari333'>Kamari333</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Mob, Attempted Murder, Dancetale Sans (Undertale), Dancetale Sans/Underfell Sans/Underlust Sans (Undertale), Drinking, Gun Violence, M/M, Multi, Murder, Poisoning, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Sexual Harassment, Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underfell Sans/Underlust Sans (Undertale), Underlust Sans (Undertale)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:54:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,485</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29297088</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamari333/pseuds/Kamari333</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>1st Prize in the 333 Twitter Followers Fic Raffle</p><p>The request was to see the Burlesque (Red/Lust/Dance) poly in a 1920s mafia setting.</p><p>In a speakeasy, a dancer trying to keep his head down deals with feelings of inadequacy.</p><p>In a park, a mechanic down on his luck hopes for a job to pay the bills.</p><p>In an alley, a car sits, full of bulletholes and dust.</p><p>What begins with a mystery ends with a mystery as we see this twist on a tale as old as <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/15372225/chapters/35671689">another fic</a> I wrote because I wanted to.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sans/Sans (Undertale)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Kamari333 Gifts and Prompts</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Burlesque Noir</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinobotKING117/gifts">DinobotKING117</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            [Restricted Work] by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamari333/pseuds/Kamari333">Kamari333</a>. Log in to view.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was expecting this to be 1k but look at me now.<br/>I hope you like it FightDinoKing. Thanks so much for being a fan! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lust peeked around the curtain to look out at the crowd, as he had done so many times before the last few days. The speakeasy was full and vibrant and alive as it was every night, as swanky a joint as Grillby could make it and still keep it safe. As packed as it was, however, Lust didn't see any sign of his favorite patron.</p><p>"Might wanna drop that torch yer holdin', doll," a voice said. Lust turned to see a stranger, a human in a cheap suit smelling of cheaper whisky. "Maybe think of looking my way? I got ice if that's what yer after."</p><p>Lust instinctually brought a hand up to the choker around his throat, fingering the diamond tied in place with soft silk. "do i look like a worker, sir?"</p><p>The guy smiled. "More like out of work, how I hear it."</p><p>Lust grit his teeth, shifting to one side to reach the bell along the wall. Patrons weren't allowed in the back without special permission, and Lust was damn sure this thug wasn't on the list. "i dunno what you mean." If he wasn't already dressed for the show, he might have bounced the man himself. As it was, these skirts were expensive, and Lust didn't want put out to replace them.</p><p>"Aw, did no one tell ya?" The guy crept closer. "Big Red's been rubbed out. He won't be coming 'round no more. Only a matter of time before our gang moves in on his whole turf."</p><p>Lust put his back to the wall, hands behind his back, and gripped the hidden bell ringer. He gave a few gentle, distinct tugs. "i think all that giggle juice has ya jingle brained, mac."</p><p>The guy loomed over Lust, hand on the wall next to his skull. "This drum's already ours, savvy? And everyone knows you were sweet on that bruno-"</p><p>Lust felt himself flinch. He hadn't thought he was being obvious. A few winks, a few drinks. Red hadn't acted on anything, not really. Just a few thank-you gifts. Lust hadn't realized the whole town saw him get rejected.</p><p>"-so it might not be safe on the street unless ya find a new, better fella to speak up for ya, see?"</p><p>Lust rang the bell a little harder. "i can speak for myself, thanks~" The guy wasn't taking the hint and Lust was starting to lose patience.</p><p>"Maybe... but I can't help but worry how the boss must be feeling, out there all cold and lonely... He might think you're playing favorites, see? But if ya come out on <em>my</em> arm-"</p><p>His voice cut off with a yelp as Undyne scooped him from behind, grinning sharp and toothy. "Alright, break it up!" She carried him out the back, ignoring his protests and threats. Lust sighed, sagging against the wall. He hadn't seen Red in days. Sure, he'd heard about a drive by, but there hadn't been any names... No dust...</p><p>He hadn't seen Edge by, either.</p><p>Lust checked a mirror to make sure his makeup was still good, putting on his stage face. He wasn't going to think the worst, not without proof. Even if it meant Red wasn't interested... He had to be okay, somewhere.</p>
<hr/><p>Dance sat on a box in his usual corner of the park, head pillowed in his arms where they were curled atop the sign he held upright in his lap. 'i can fix anything,' it read in his careful scrawl, cleaner than his usual messy chicken scratch. His head throbbed with every little glint and gleam of the morning sun; he'd been out on the roof all night, and it was doing him no favors now, during daylight hours.</p><p>Dance let his sockets drift shut, willing to risk a few moments of rest. Business was slow most days, if it came at all, especially since few folks wanted to bring their watches or risk their cars to some dewdropper. He'd tried peddling by the corner shop a few streets over, but the coppers had run him off after a few complaints from the grifter in the hock shop.</p><p>He was just mad that Dance's work spoke for itself. He didn't need to take no one for a chump anymore, even if he couldn't say he hadn't done so in the past. He was going straight <em>now,</em> was the important thing; setting a good example for his little brother now that he could do so without it biting them both in the ass.</p><p>Ah well.</p><p>Dance dozed off, just like any other day. It had to have been a good hour before someone approached him.</p><p>"Hey, mister," piped a young voice. Dance looked up with one socket to see what looked like one of the paper boys, a human with dark hair and dark eyes that were sharper than his youth would hold to rights. "You, uh, ya know how to get a flivver going?"</p><p>Despite the off chord in the kid's words, Dance smiled. "sure. if someone can spot me a sawbuck, ya follow?" It was pricey, but cars were hell to deal with and Dance wouldn't waste his time if it wasn't worth the trouble.</p><p>The kid didn't hesitate. "Sure. C'mon, it's this way!" He turned to run off towards one of the park exits, stopping a few paces away to make sure Dance followed. </p><p>Dance couldn't put his finger on why he hesitated. Something just felt <em>off</em>. Kiddo didn't feel malicious, but something smelled fishy. Still, money was money. Dance tucked his sign under one arm and scooped up his toolbox, following after without complaint.</p><p>The kiddo led Dance out of the park, walking down the busy street past pedestrians, shops, and a few peddlers in the same position Dance was in more often than not. Dance saw a few cars parked on the road and a few more passing by noisily, one leaving a trail of smoke along the planks and pavestones that only faded long after its passing. The kid passed it all by, moving with an eagerness, a sense of purpose, that Dance could taste in the air.</p><p>The turn down a dark alley made Dance hesitate again. The kid hadn't even slowed down. Dance took a deep breath. If he thought about it, pushing the broken down thing into a place with fewer people wasn't a dumb idea. It could have even broken down while taking a shortcut this way. He had no reason to think there was anything off about it at all.</p><p>But he did.</p><p>Dance had to remind himself that he had to buy groceries eventually, and he couldn't get dough without dough. He shook himself a little to ease his nerves, and stepped into the dark alley.</p><p>The kid was waiting down the way, at what looked like another turn. "Over here!" He waved, pointing around the next corner.</p><p>Dance came over. Sure enough, there was the car. It was unimpressive at first glance, just another metal monster out to muddy up the roads, but Dance could already see it had seen its fair share of wear and tear. A few steps closer, a better look in the shadow of the walls around them, gave Dance a different perspective: The dim light shone and reflected over dents and holes in the hood; the top had been punctured repeatedly; one of the doors was ripped clean off and left leaning against the side, also riddled with holes.</p><p>"what the..." Dance dropped his sign, rushing forward to check the interior in case there was someone injured. The inside stank of cigar smoke, sugar, booze, and iron, grey and red-black stains on all of the seats but that of the driver's. "what the hell-"</p><p>"can ya fix it?" asked a deep voice.</p><p>Dance pulled himself out of the car slowly, leaving his toolbox on the empty seat. The kid was gone, replaced by a rather large monster wearing an expensive suit and fedora, a cigar sticking out of sharp teeth. His clothes were immaculate, save for patches of sweat soaking through here and there.</p><p>Dance felt his soul stutter, an uncharacteristic anxiety taking hold. It wasn't a <em>bad</em> anxiety, not fear or any sense of genuine alarm. Dance <em>should have been</em> scared, but he wasn't. He just couldn't put a name to why his mouth felt dry and his hands suddenly felt clammy.</p><p>"...it looks like it's been shot," Dance said slowly. "i don't have the tools to fix the frame here- i'd need welding materials..." He suspected he'd need spare parts for the engine too. "i haven't checked the engine yet..."</p><p>"well, heh, go ahead," the other monster said, gesturing with his hand.</p><p>Moving slow, cautious, Dance slid over to the front of the car and popped the top. The smell immediately told him that the ignition would need replaced, among other things, but that had more to do with kickback than anything else. He bent over the poor, abused machine, thankful the metal was cool and he could feel around without trouble. He ended up tossing a few shells over his shoulder, shots that had barely missed blowing the whole thing to hell.</p><p>Dance ignored the sporadic flutters of his soul as he shifted his weight, trying not to think about how warm he felt in the seeping chill of the alley. He struggled to keep his hands and eyelights on the task at hand, forcing himself not to look back at the mac who had gone out of his way to get him to this car.</p><p>"...the engine needs new parts, too." Dance finally said, looking back up, only to freeze because the mac had moved to be <em>rather fucking close</em>, looming over him and the car both. Dance wondered if the damn thing was even big enough to hold him, as imposing as he felt in that moment. Sweat slicked down Dance's spine, heat flooding his body, making the chill feel even colder. </p><p><em>Why was he so- so unafraid?!</em> Dance had always had a nose for trouble. It had never steered him wrong before, had saved his bony hide time and again. He couldn't fathom why now, of all times, it absolutely <em>had</em> to be on the fritz. Now he just felt sticky and ill kept, wiping his hands on the leg of his trousers, unable to look away.</p><p>"if ya got th' goods, could ya fix it?" The guy asked, single crimson eyelight trying to swallow Dance whole.</p><p>"...yeah. i could fix it."</p><p>"berries." The guy pulled out a notepad and a pen, handing them out to Dance. "write down what all ya need. all o' it."</p><p>Dance took the items in shaking hands, turning back to the car and triple checking it. He was drenched in his own sweat, warm and cold, and somewhat frustrated. Whoever this guy was, he should have been intimidating, should have been sending Dance running. But no. No, Dance had to be a fucking chump.</p><p>When he was sure he'd itemized everything, Dance handed the pad and pen back, not looking the guy in the face at all. He heard that deep voice mumble under his breath, the texture of it winding through his body like smooth silk. He finally looked up to see him reading over the list, just before ripping the page out and giving a whistle.</p><p>A dog monster came running, skidding to a halt just behind the egg's shoulder. He folded the paper and handed it to the dog without looking. "make sure all o' this gets t' my warehouse, capiche?"</p><p>The dog gave an affirmative boof, taking the paper and running off.</p><p>Dance watched the other monster fix the cuff of his jacket sleeve, clawed tips uncharacteristically delicate with the fine material. "now, i'm sure yer time is real valuable, kitten, so lemme assure ya, i ain't gonna do ya dirty. but imma need ya t' come along with me, ya follow?" His smile widened, softened, showing off the gold implant shining in the dim glow of his eyelight. "how much ya gonna need t' compensate this inconvenience?"</p><p>It took Dance a moment to understand what was going on, distracted as he was by what was turning out to be a sensory nightmare. Silhouette, voice, the smooth, gentle motions of his body; Dance found himself oddly distracted. "...a yard," he tried, thinking about how far that would get him and his brother in terms of food.</p><p>There was a soft chuckle, and Dance felt the guy get closer before he registered it with his eyes. He felt the chill of LV waft off him, felt the chill of his bones as the guy delicately tilted Dance's chin up to look him square in the face. "dun' sell yerself short, kitt'n. ready t' go?"</p><p>Dance gulped. His mind was listing all the reasons he should have bolted, should have been terrified, should have been running, money be damned. His soul just fluttered, unconcerned with anything but that he looked himself a damn fool. His voice wouldn't work, that tremble in the back of his skull warning him he'd sound a jumbled mess if he didn't keep his trap shut, so he simply nodded in response.</p><p>This fucker. This fucker was going to be nothing but trouble.</p><p>"good kitten." The mac that Dance still didn't have a name for gripped his shoulder, then the hood of the car, and before Dance knew it he was pulled through the disorienting fall of a shortcut. The spark of magic hit him like a wet towel to the face, soaking him in a rush of winter winds, soft fruit, and ozone.</p><p>When he had solid ground under his feet again, they were in a dark, empty warehouse, with little besides a few benches left to it.</p><p>"name's red, by the way," the guy, Red, murmured. "make yerself real comfortable, kitten. might be a while 'fore them palookas get back with th' goods."</p><p>Dance just stood there, not sure what he'd gotten himself into, or why he wasn't mad about it.</p>
<hr/><p>Another night, another disappointment. The drum was empty, save for Grillby doing last minute cleanup, Undyne using the phone to ring her frau, and Lust himself.</p><p>Lust flopped down into the nest of cushions in the back room, curling up around a pillow. His bones were starting to ache terribly, the stage lights doing little to help his overheating body. He'd have to take a shift at the can house tomorrow, something he wasn't thrilled about for a number of reasons. </p><p>He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up, after a few silly gifts. Red smiled at everyone, after all.</p><p>It was easier to think the hurt in his soul was rejection, and not- not-</p><p>"aw, c'mon, doll, why th' waterworks?"</p><p>Lust sat up with a start, looking into the face he had been afraid he'd never see again. "red!"</p><p>Red grinned, crooked and shy all at once, taking off his hat to wring between his hands. "miss me?"</p><p>"miss-" Lust pushed himself out of his nest, darting into Red's arms without a second thought. "you sap! i thought you were- that-"</p><p>Red shushed him, his claws stroking his shoulders and back with a tenderness Lust craved desperately. "got in a bit o' a jam's, all. gotta lay low, but..." Red tilted Lust's head up, smile soft, sockets deformed with a fondness that Lust wanted to believe was real. "started t' worry 'bout ya."</p><p>"i'm not the one behind the eight ball, what happened-?!" Lust demanded.</p><p>Red picked Lust up like he weighed nothing, sitting on the couch with him in his lap. Lust settled against him, feeling like he fit, uncaring of the cigar smoke or sweat or the shape of Red's piece in his pocket. Red was safety, Red was comfort, and Lust was going to soak it up as long as he could.</p><p>"listen, doll, i think some'n might o' been a stoolie..." Red murmured. "got gunned down after takin' ya home last time..."</p><p>Lust covered his mouth, tense.</p><p>"know who coulda done that?" Red asked, softer.</p><p>"...i'll... i might know who to ask..." Lust mumbled, thinking about that night, how happy he'd been, who he thought he saw on his way out of the joint.</p><p>Who wasn't going to be <em>breathing</em> for much longer.</p><p>"i c'n trust ya, can't i?" Red asked.</p><p>"...i want that. but..." Lust gripped his hand, holding it against him. "i'd rather you be safe than trust me."</p><p>Red started to laugh. "damn, doll! how's it i got so lucky to have a moll like you, eh?"</p><p>Lust flushed, tightening his grip. "......moll?"</p><p>"uh- i-" Red stumbled over his thoughts. His smile wavered. "i thought- if ya ain't-"</p><p>Lust grabbed his tie, pulling him down for a soft kiss. "yours, if... if you'll have me." Lust was probably dreaming. Maybe he passed out. Maybe he got served a mickey finn. He had to be dreaming.</p><p>"...berries." Red mumbled, eyelight hazy. His face flushed a soft crimson, as if his eyelight had melted down over his goofy grin.</p><p>Lust shifted, pushing Red down into the cushions, letting himself have this lovely dream. "make love to me?"</p><p>Lust didn't expect Red to grip his shoulders so firmly. He didn't expect the extra sheen of sweat. "h-hold on, doll. i ain't- we ain't- i still gotta ask 'bout- uh- i-"</p><p>Lust relaxed, letting Red push him up and back into his lap. He held Red's wrist gently, stroking at the delicate bones of his deceptively slender carpals. </p><p>Red gathered himself. "i shouldn't o' come t' see ya yet, shoulda waited, but... doll, i found a guy..."</p><p>"a guy?" Lust wasn't following. His dream was taking the strangest turn.</p><p>"swell fella, a real sheik, if in a different way 'n ya got goin'..." Red mumbled, taking out his cigar and putting it out on one of his shiny buttons, careful of the ash. "can't go courtin' a second squeeze if my moll ain't game, so..." He avoided looking at Lust in the face, his single crimson eyelight hiding in the far corner of his socket like a kicked puppy.</p><p>Lust cupped Red's chin, tilting it just enough to make Red look at him. "sweetheart... as long as ya come home to me, i'm gonna come home to you. feel me?"</p><p>Red blushed all the harder. "berries." He gripped gently, delicately, at Lust's wrist, holding it there for him to kiss.</p><p>Lust wanted that on his face. He leaned forward to take it there, nuzzling. Red's possessive, pleased little noises reverberated through every contact point, making the heat in him quiver with anticipatory thrills. "must ya tease me like this?"</p><p>"who says i'm teasin'?" Red quipped back, cupping the back of Lust's skull, the tips of his claws scratching lightly.</p><p>Lust took the invitation for what it was, pushing Red back down into the cushions at the same time Red pulled him closer. Lust wouldn't need to work the can house tomorrow, after all.</p><p>Maybe never again, if Red was this swell.</p>
<hr/><p>Red stayed to watch over Dance for some time, long enough that the dogs sent on their errand arrived with all the parts that Dance could ever need. Dance sorted the mess of materials and spare parts as they came in, eventually setting to work undoing the damage the poor old bucket had suffered through. He'd save the cleaning up for after, that way he wouldn't have to do it twice.</p><p>He might have been putting it off: Dance had always been good at avoiding unpleasant things, at least up until that day. He avoided looking at Red so his soul would stop palpitating in his chest. He avoided interacting with the dogs so he didn't have to feel afraid of being chewed on. He avoided touching the remains of a murder by keeping busy elsewhere. And, so long as the car needed worked on at all, he could keep avoiding thinking about whether or not he was going to be allowed to go home after he was done.</p><p>The holes in the frame needed welded shut. Some sheet metal and a blowtorch would do the job, and thank the stars the colors matched. He had to change out parts from the engine and ignition, parts that had been damaged by wear and abuse alike. He had to replace the engine cover entirely. He had to reaffix loose parts that were still good and clean parts that would last longer for it.</p><p>When the metal and machine had nothing left to be done, Dance finally turned to the inside. Dust had to be swept, ash and soot had to be scrubbed and scraped away. Holes in the upholstery had to be mended, stuffing put back and leather sewn shut. He found a shoe between the seats that smelled like sugar and regret, which he promptly threw as far away from him as possible. He polished caked-on dust from the dashboard, cleaning the delicate pieces of tragic gunk that would have done the driver no favors.</p><p>It was hours upon hours of work. Dance was working by gaslight and the meager glow of his own eyelights by the time he passed out, overseen by the dogs left behind when Red vanished.</p>
<hr/><p>When Dance woke up, it was to soft whispers and the smell of eggs and toast. He kept his sockets shut, pretending to sleep.</p><p>"He's been sleeping for a while..." one of the dogs whined.</p><p>"let 'm sleep," murmured the voice of that guy, Red. Dance felt him looming from behind, felt his hand gently pull up a blanket that had fallen a tad askew on his body. Dance didn't remember there being a blanket on him when he passed out. He didn't remember there being a blanket at all, actually. It was soft, and warm, a contrast to the cool hand that brushed over his temple. "cat worked real hard yesterday. deserves a lil break, yeah?"</p><p>Dance should have been terrified, or at least mildly disturbed. Instead, all he could feel was the ache in his joints from a day of hard labor, and a gentle, comforting warmth in his chest. Red's voice was soft, a low rumble, like storm-winds against the outside of a sturdy home, the patter of rain against the windows, the grain of a record right before the music plays. There was the faint scent of sweat, lingering cigar smoke, and something like wine but not. Dance could have genuinely fallen back asleep right then and there, if the smell of food wasn't so damn tempting.</p><p>There was a soft click near Dance's head. He might have thought it the sound of a plate settling on the floor, but whatever he was laying on was softer than the warehouse floor. That smell of eggs and toast, a delightful breakfast, wafted stronger yet. Dance heard shuffling, heavy canine panting, until a finger snap cut through it all like a knife. "i said let 'm sleep, capiche?"</p><p>"Yes'sir!" two dog voices said at once.</p><p>"n dun touch th' food!"</p><p>"...Yes, sir..." came between whines.</p><p>Red's presence lingered over Dance a bit longer, then meandered away. Dance clamped down on the strangest urge to reach out, to stop him, internally scolding himself for the irrational (and likely suicidal) impulse. The man was a bruno, a trouble boy if there ever was one, and Dance was stuck behind the eight ball thanks to him and his beat-up boiler.</p><p>Dance stayed put, listening to what was going on around him.</p><p>"...damn," Red said, whistling low. "kitten knows how t' clean up nice, don't he? baby looks like new..!"</p><p>That gentle warmth and flutter in Dance's soul picked up again, stronger. He felt his face warm, his joints. If he was going to blush like a damn teenager with his first crush (a reaction he shouldn't be having at all, which made no sense, and it was driving him mad), he might as well get up and see if that food was for him. Dance stretched, wiping his face with both hands, then used the end of his shirt before tucking it back lazily into his slacks.</p><p>When Dance finally blinked the world into focus, he realized he was on a couch he didn't remember seeing in the warehouse the other day. There was a simple side table standing next to it, right by where his head had been. On that table was the plate of breakfast, taunting him.</p><p>"mornin' kitten," Red greeted, stepping out from the car he had been inspecting. "sure ain't runnin' no con, here. baby looks better 'n i seen her in years."</p><p>Being awake only seemed to make Dance feel more the grubby, flustered mess.</p><p>"brought ya breakfast," Red said after a long, awkward silence of Dance feeling like he couldn't find the rhythm to steady his feet. Red gestured. "like eggs?"</p><p>Dance looked back to the plate, taking it in hand. "yeah. they're swell..." A tiny part of Dance's mind questioned whether it was safe to eat. Poison was easy, especially when you made or transported the food. Dance thumbed at the plate, trying to listen to that little voice that never steered him wrong. All he could feel was that he was <em>safe</em>, and hungry, and food had been provided.</p><p>Dance ate eggs on crunchy toast, ignoring how Red and the dogs watched him.</p><p>Red seemed to get as irritated with the canines' staring as Dance was: after Dance had taken a few bites, Red snapped his fingers again. "get yer furry gams out there 'n patrol th' fuck'n' area," he growled.</p><p>The dogs jumped to attention, scrambling out the door as he bid. Dance relaxed, finishing his mouthful before going in for the next in peace.</p><p>That left Dance alone with Red.</p><p>Dance tried to focus more on the food. He wasn't uncomfortable (a fact which was driving him crazy, since it still made no god damn sense), but his soul kept doing flips and twisting around inside him. He was sweating profusely, leg bouncing with jitters that had no connection to any sense of anxiety or fear. The silence in the room grew move pervasive, more awkward, as time went on. Dance cleaned his plate, but sat there on the couch, holding it and staring at the tiny stain of egg left behind.</p><p>"so, uh-" Red cleared a throat he wasn't supposed to have. "how much more work needs doin'?"</p><p>Dance kept staring at the plate. "i- i think it's all done. would wanna, uh- test how she purrs, make sure i didn't overlook anything, but..."</p><p>"...berries." Red came closer. "so's, uh..." There was the shuffle of something like paper, and suddenly, a rather plush wad of cash was in the air above the plate, right in front of Dance's face. Dance couldn't count it, but just the sheer volume guaranteed it to be some serious scratch. "yer sawbuck, plus a bit o' a tip... comes out t' two grand."</p><p>Dance put the plate down slowly, taking the kale before he could tell himself no. He counted it, again and again: two <em>thousand</em> dollars. That was enough to get him <em>and</em> his brother both by for <em>months</em>-</p><p>"whats the catch?" Dance asked, feeling a tad lightheaded. He looked up at Red, just to see his face, half expecting the other metaphorical shoe to drop.</p><p>"ain't no catch, kitten." Red said it, smile soft and on the right side of pride, and Dance could believe it. "we can get in that car 'n i can drop ya off wherever ya want, ya keep all o' that, no strings. though, if i was in yer shoes, i'd keep names hush-hush, savvy? i gots me a few acquaintances wut might not take well hearin' ya did me a solid."</p><p>Dance nodded dumbly, looking back down at the absolute mess of lettuce in his hands.</p><p>"but, uh, since we're gonna be endin' our business relationship all amicable-"</p><p>
  <em>Two grand was a bit more than fucking 'amicable'-</em>
</p><p>"there's a place it might not be so bad t' drop my name..." Red scribbled something down on a bit of paper, offering it to Dance. The corner was stained with his sweat, something that Dance could relate to, given how the cash was starting to stick to his own slick palms. "tell 'm 'ol red sent ya, 'n this place 'll show ya a swell time."</p><p>Dance took the note, looking over the directions. It was on a side of town he didn't usually go, since the prices were a bit higher.</p><p>"'n maybe... if i see ya there... say... eight t'night? i might buy ya a drink?"</p><p>Dance leaned down to pull off one of his socks, stuffing the money and the note both inside and using it as a makeshift wallet. "yeah. yeah, sure." <em>Two thousand dollars were in his fucking sock and he could pay off three months rent plus his late fee and still have plenty left over for food, holy fuck-</em></p><p>"...berries..." Red breathed, sounding almost as out of it as Dance felt.</p><p>Dance had to admit he was running on autopilot for a while after that. He had Red drop him off near the park he'd been picked up from (the car ran like a dream, of course it did, Dance was damn good at his job), and hoofed it home in a daze. It took three tries to get his key in the lock, his hands were shaking so hard. When he finally got the door open, and slumped against the other side to close it, Dance started to laugh.</p><p>
  <em>Two thousand dollars-</em>
</p><p>It took a few hours and his brother coming home before Dance had it in him to even think the invitation through.</p><p>It only took him a moment to realize he wanted to go.</p>
<hr/><p>Red couldn't have wiped the smile off his face if he wanted to. The last few days had been hell for him: he'd been shot, lost three good men, one of his favorite suits, and his car had nearly been totaled. Worse yet, he hadn't had a fucking clue who to rip open as payback.</p><p>Now, however? Now Red was feeling real good about his lot in life: He'd had a shower, changed into a clean suit, had a swell night with his moll, gotten his car fixed, and even gotten a tentative date with a damn fine fella. Red was in a damn good mood as he pulled up as close to the apartment Boss indicated as possible.</p><p>"sure this is th' place?" Red asked again, keeping his voice low.</p><p>"OF COURSE I AM SURE," Edge replied, only the faintest glow showing through the cheaters they were wearing. It was amazing how effective a trenchcoat and hat were at creating anonymity.</p><p>"then th' fuck's with all th' fuzz?!" Red demanded to know, as if the universe would answer him. He watched as the coppers put up more warning tape, a pair of them carrying out a body bag.</p><p>A newshawk darted in, firing off his blocky camera with a hiss loud enough to be heard across the street. "Detective! Detective! Is it true that Don Ferro's bit the big one?"</p><p>The gumshoe rubbed his face. "Yes, it's confirmed that Mr. Ferro has passed on."</p><p>"And how was he murdered?" asked the reporter quickly.</p><p>"We don't know-" the detective started, although the reporter was already scribbling notes- "if it even <em>is</em> a murder. Mr. Ferro was found by one of his associates this evening, unresponsive, in his room. There were no signs of any fight."</p><p>"So you dunno what killed him?"</p><p>"For all we know, right now, it was an unfortunate but natural occurrence, now scram!" The detective gestured vigorously, waving his hat to shoo off the reporter.</p><p>"...hear that, boss?" Red hummed, revving up the car again.</p><p>"I DID." Edge cracked his neck. "SOMEONE GOT TO HIM FIRST."</p><p>"now izzat a good thing..." Red started to drive off. "or a bad thing..."</p>
<hr/><p>It was all over the evening paper that the man who tried to have Red killed (not that that fact was well documented) had died suspiciously overnight. Edge and Red spent the rest of the day rounding up the remains of the man's mob, making them offers they couldn't refuse. They found another dead body in a seedy hotel room, calling in a helpful little tip to the police to take care of the cleanup for them.</p><p>The whole affair was cleaned up by nightfall, an entire enemy gang neatly gift-wrapped.</p><p>Edge, as suspicious as Red over their sudden windfall, called in a favor down at the morgue. Their contact got ahold of the autopsy reports; they suspected Nevada Gas, of all things! Problem was, there was no sign of cyanide at either crime scene.</p><p>Red thought something was hinky about it all. It was too clean, too easy, too <em>lucky</em>. He was a little pissed he hadn't gotten a chance to use Ol' Lucy (an eye for an eye, a bullet for a bullet).</p><p>Red was tense as an overstretched rubber band, and desperately glad to finally head back to the dive, where his moll would be waiting for him.</p><p>When Red arrived at the speakeasy, the soft lights and catchy music washed away the worries of his day. He lit a new cigar, taking deep breath and ambling down the last few steps before turning to take his usual seat. Lust was already there, sparkling like the diamond Red had been blessed to put around his neck, an easy, genuine smile on his face.</p><p>Next to him was Dance, cleaned up in a fresh shirt, glowing a soft, comforting blue in the dim light.</p><p>Red felt his soul flutter at the sight. He wondered how much better it would look if it was in his apartment instead of a drum.</p><p>"well, well, lookie here..." Red purred, too pleased with the view to hide it from his voice. "see i dun gotta do no introductions."</p><p>"red~" Lust sprung from his seat, right into Red's waiting arms. "i missed you~" he purred between kisses, standing on his toes to reach as high as he could, pulling Red down by his tie to close the gap. No matter how often he did it (and by god, was it often), Red was never going to get used to being greeted so enthusiastically. It never failed to take him apart, to make everything else except the soft, fuzzy feelings he had for his sweetheart seem unimportant.</p><p>"just saw me last night," Red tried to counter, but he didn't mind being missed a little if it meant seeing that smile light up for <em>him</em>. "careful, doll, those kisses could kill a man."</p><p>Lust grinned just a little wider. "not you~" And as if to prove it, he gave Red one more for good measure. Red felt the purr rumble low in Lust's chest, coaxing an echo in Red's. Lust was wearing a new perfume; instead of his usual fruity scent, it was a gentler earthy almond scent. Red could get used to that -- his sweetheart had great taste.</p><p>"...the two of you know each other...?" Dance's voice was softer.</p><p>Red grinned up at him, couldn't stop grinning, he was really having a wonderful day (surprises be damned). "sure do. lust's my moll. speakin' o' which..." back down to the absolute vision that was Lust. "sweetheart, this here's th' kitten i was tellin' ya 'bout. 'member?"</p><p>Lust smiled back up at him. "oh, yeah~" Another kiss (his sweetheart was generous with the affection, and if Red were any weaker in spirit he'd have already died of pure joy), Lust resting his full, negligible weight against Red's chest as he looked back over at Dance. Red couldn't see it from the angle he had, but he had a good idea what face Lust must have been making from the way Dance lit up like a blue candle. "ain't i lucky you have such good taste in faces~"</p><p>Dance made a noise that reminded Red vaguely of someone choking on their own spit. Cute. He walked Lust back to his spot at the table, sitting down across from them and enjoying the sight of his two favorite people side by side. "so... how's 'bout i buy ya that drink? ya can tell me how yer day was?"</p><p>Dance nodded, quiet.</p><p>Red hoped whatever had stunned his kitten into silence faded soon. As cute as it was, Red liked his kitten as a drunken spitfire just as much.</p>
<hr/><p>Lust helped Red carry Dance out to his car (a feat that would have only needed the one of them if Dance hadn't been such a squirmy drunk). Lust didn't mind, considering it was an innocent excuse to get close to Dance even while he was fried (as opposed to the not-so-innocent excuses that Lust had to keep reminding himself he shouldn't indulge in -- when he and Dance finally had their first kiss, it was gonna be sober).</p><p>Red tucked their zozzled third into the passenger seat, covering him with his jacket to keep out the cold before closing the door. "sure ya dun' need a ride too, doll?"</p><p>Lust shook his head. "i promised to stay a bit later tonight, and i don't wanna keep you~" He leaned up, distracting Red from his good natured offer. "now you get going~ the sooner ya get him home, the sooner ya can get home yourself~ it'd be a right shame if my baby didn't get enough sleep~"</p><p>Red, as easily flustered as always, stammered a hasty agreement before hiding in his hat and getting back in his car. Lust waved him off, waiting until the old boiler turned the corner before heading back inside.</p><p>Lust immediately went to the back and collapsed into his usual seat at the bar. "i need a reefer..."</p><p>"You need to SLEEP," Undyne countered, pounding her fist on the bartop hard enough to shake the glasses on the walls.</p><p>"And wash." Grillby added, catching the one mug that fell off its hook.</p><p>Lust chuckled. "nobody noticed." Not Red, not Ferro, and not his stoolie. They were all too busy being kissed to notice the smell. "but... yeah, you're right. a shower and a nap sound like heaven right about now...." He got up, waving a last farewell to his friends as he headed out the back, feeling the smirk curl on his face when he caught sight of what Grillby had pinned to the back wall: a cut out from the evening post, including pictures of the human that had called to have Red shot.</p><p>That human had made two very big mistakes: trying to give <em>his sweetheart</em> lead poisoning, and thinking lead was the only poison one could give.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yeah, the guys ended up a little different in this AU, and boy was it fun working those differences out. :3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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